Temptation
by Mlle. Phoenix Fox
Summary: Winifred 'Freddy' James has sworn off men and chocolate...both go straight to her thighs. But when she's sent by her boss at Lady Luck magazine to interview the world's most eccentric, handsome and eligible bachelor chocolatier...this can only be trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Yeah yeah I know I may be crazy for starting ANOTHER new story...but I needed something to celebrate my ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY on F . F. NET! Well...technically July 25 was my one year anniversary, but today is the anniversary of when I got my first review! And all the stories I posted already aren't ready to have another chapter posted. Besides, I wanted to try my hand at a CATCF fic for a while now and this idea came to me. And I'm also taking over the fic 'Smell of Peanuts' by CiceroGuided. That's already has nine chapters plus the one I already wrote! Stay tuned..._**

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**_It's been a great year. I want to thank anyone who's ever reviewed and anyone who counts themselves as my faithful readers. Now that I have a full time job, it will be harder and harder to update as often as I like. But I promise with the coming year to try my best so that we all can have fun._**

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**_So read, review and as always, _**

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**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

* * *

Temptation

Winifred 'Freddy' James has sworn off men and chocolate...both go straight to her thighs. Determined to lose those pesky last twenty pounds, Freddy knows that any distractions will keep her from her goal. But when she's sent by her boss at Lady Luck magazine to interview the world's most eccentric, handsome and eligible bachelor chocolatier...this can only be trouble. Can Freddy handle the temptation that is ten billion calories of magical candy factory and its equally sweet and tempting creator?

* * *

_**'The Best Diet in the World' **_

_**Part Nine**_

_**By Freddy James**_

_**Well girls, I've done it. You've followed along as I've lost eighty pounds of ugly fat and am now officially a size ten! But don't cheer yet and demand my secret. Eating sensibly and exercising more is all it takes. No more, no less, no Jenny Craig. **_

_**And while I'm thrilled at the prospect of finally buying clothes from the junior/miss department, I'm stuck. I still have twenty pounds to go before my weight is in proportion to my height. And I've hit the dreaded weight loss plateau. My trainer aka my older brother tells me I need to change another habit of mine before if make any more progress. But what could I change? I eat like a rabbit, I run like a rabbit, ergo...I am a rabbit...a technically overweight rabbit. What more could I possibly change? Looking back over my journal, I realized something. Every time I hit a snag and gained more weight is when I had been dating. And indulging in my daily chocolate. Could that be the key? Do relationships jeopardizes a woman's chance of being thin? We all know chocolate does. Especially if you're like me and can't stop at half a Wonka bar but eat two whole Scrumdiliumpscious bars instead.**_

_**So I've come to a decision. To answer this question, I am doing the unthinkable. I am giving up men and chocolate. I am doing this for women everywhere to see what are the pros and cons of reaching one's weight loss goals. Will I be happier thinner and alone or chunky and risking my heart in hope of true love? Giving up chocolate will be like going through rehab. Especially since the only chocolate I ever buy is Wonka...Forgive me Willy. I will probably get the shakes, feel sick and like I'm going to die. But the way my love life is going lately giving up men may not be so bad. You all know of my commitment to wait until marriage, but the long line of losers I've been dating don't seem to grasp that concept. Pray for me girls. For I'll say it again. I'm giving up men and chocolate...because both go straight to my thighs. WJ

* * *

**_

My boss Victoria Scott put down the copy of my article crying and laughing at the same time. I smirked in triumph. What every writer loves is to get a real reaction from their audience. Especially an emotional one. I know Mark Twain is looking down on me in approval. I work at Lady Luck magazine. A magazine for the young modern career woman. I'm a commentary writer mostly, but for the last nine months I've gain a little celebrity by losing a lot of weight and writing about it. I look over at myself in my bosses mirror and I can scarcely believe that slim woman with long legs, tight fitting skirt suit and slim face is me. Months ago my heart shaped face had been round with a double chin. The only way I knew it was me because I still had the long, black, layered hair with chestnut highlights and the same wide electric green eyes with big eyelashes. I flicked my hair out of my face as Victoria controlled herself and managed to say,

"This...this is your best one so far..." Victoria was Meryl Streep's Prada wearing Devil with a heart of gold. An opportunist and a pussycat, no one could ask for a better boss. Especially when she told me,

"As a matter of fact, you've been doing such a good job, we want you to cover a very special expose for us." Having gained my interest, I crossed my legs and leaned in watching her pull a huge file out of her desk. She pushed it towards me as she said,

"He contacted us first of course...but after I gained consciousness, I jumped at the opportunity and knew...you'd be the girl for the job..." I hefted the folder into my lap and opened it, my jaw dropping by the second. There were countless newspaper clippings, most of which covered the Golden Ticket Contest, photos, magazine articles, Internet printouts and more...all about one very special person.

"Willy Wonka?" I asked in confusion. Victoria grinned and nodded like an idiot,

"In three months time...Charlie Bucket...the luckiest kid in the world and his heir is going to turn sixteen...Mr. Wonka is throwing a huge birthday party for him and...he's inviting the press. He wants to build Charlie up as the next big thing and this party is the kid's debut into chocolatier society or something. Charlie Bucket is going to be England's biggest heart throb next to a certain Royal Prince...but that doesn't mean everyone will stop asking about Wonka." I was trying to decipher what she was saying, when I found a recent photo of Charlie Bucket. He was a cutie and would be melting hearts with those big brown eyes of his and that charming grin. Under that picture, I found a close up of Mr. Wonka...slightly out of focus as if was taken miles away, but still one could tell the genius was handsome. Seeing what I was looking at, Victoria said to me,

"That's the clearest picture anyone has of Mr. Wonka. Circles the Internet every couple seconds. Every time he's publicly photographed he's wearing these big goofy shades...You know how to work a camera right?"

"Why?" I asked suspicious.

"We want you to interview Willy Wonka." Victoria said. I snapped my head up.

"What!"

"He contacted us...for some weird reason...something about liking a funny ad we ran...Anyway he's letting one of our writers...stay the entire three months until Charlie's birthday...and do an in depth expose on him and Charlie's coming of age!" Victoria gushed standing and coming around the edge of her desk.

"Why? Mr. Wonka has been private and recluse until now. He fired all of his workers when spies snuck in to steal his secrets! He made every one of those contest winners and their parents sigh a confidentiality form. What made him decide to tell the world about himself?" I asked. Victoria shrugged,

"I don't know...he's an eccentric billionaire!"

"But why would we do this? Exposes isn't exactly our thing..." I asked.

"They are when the world's most eligible bachelor asks you to! Our readers are women! They'd love a man like Wonka...Rich, handsome and with chocolate on hand twenty-four/seven!" Victoria said. _So would I..._I thought to myself. That's when dread filled me and I realized something,

"I can't do this article..."

"Why not?" asked Victoria, her horn rimmed glasses and bobbed blond curls shaking at me.

"My article! I just said I swore off chocolate...and you want me to live in a chocolate factory for three MONTHS?" I asked incredulously.

"Think of it as the topper to your diet article...Can a woman lose twenty pounds when constantly resisting temptation to cheat? Think of how inspirational it would be to women everywhere...if they read how you were surrounded by candy and you didn't break your diet...In fact...do double duty...make it your goal to lose that last twenty pounds by the end of your visit! Ooh! We'll even get you a size six designer gown for the occasion! We'll show in the the next issue, explain where you'll be...and that you'll be wearing the dress by the party! Do you like Prada Freddy?" Victoria said rushing to her phone. I stood up, spilling the contents of the file off my lap,

"Wait a minute! Wait a minute! You...you want me to diet while I'm INSIDE a chocolate factory?"

"It'll be a great story! Trust me...You leave on Friday...Hello? Hey Marc...guess what? I need a Prada gown size six...anything will do as long as it looks thin..." Victoria said dismissing me as she talked into her headset phone. I sighed gathering up the file of research, Wonka's picture almost taunting me.

"Okay...but if I come back a size thirty...you're paying for my gastric bypass!" I told her turning on my heel.

"Uh-huh...Sure Freddy...Manolo Blahnik please?" Victoria said not noticing my departure.

"Prada? Manolos? As if...more like Lane Bryant and Payless!" I said sensing doom.

* * *

I went home, finding my older, muscular brother Jack in my kitchen. He was a dream...Captain of the wrestling team in high school, sweet guy, loved to cook and short brown hair that ever so gently fell into our father's amber eyes. He was always the hunk everyone loved. While I had been his fat little sister who spent all her time reading books. But we were always close.

"Surprise! Trying out some recipes for my new cookbook...Little Taste of Asia...You're my first victim...I mean customer!" he said raising the stir fry to my lips. I ate the bit of peppers saying,

"Guess what..."

"What?" he said.

"By this time in three months...I'll be back to a size twenty...So let me write my Christmas list now...'cause I'm going to need a whole new wardrobe..." I said sarcastically as I left the room. He furrowed his brow,

"What?" I explained the whole situation over dinner, enjoying the sensation of getting full and not taking seconds while I could. The thought of returning to a point where I kept eating and eating and eating sickened me. Jack read over my copy of the article and said,

"I don't think you should do this."

"What? The interview? The diet? Both?" I asked popping some chicken in my mouth.

"Well...I think you can pull off the diet. Although I don't see anything wrong with eating sweets in moderation...like you've been doing so far and look at how far you've come!" he said pointing out my new figure.

"Yeah but I've got another twenty to go." I reminded him.

"Technically, but speaking as a professional not really...You look fine right now...You're at a nice healthy weight...Frankly I think twenty more pounds would be too much. Maybe five more and then some more weight training to firm up...but not another twenty..." Jack told me shaking his head.

"Too late...promised Victoria...Besides...I want to know what it's like to be a six..." I told him dreaming.

"You're an ten! And dress size doesn't matter...it's just a number." Jack told me.

"To a guy like you it's just a number. To a woman like me...it's dictated her whole life. Who my friends were, what I did in school, what kind of guys I date..." I explained.

"And that's another thing...I don't think you should give up men either." Jack said.

"Why not? Not like they're knocking my door down." I told him.

"Freddy! You haven't been paying attention...I'm constantly threatening guys within an inch of their lives not to say stuff about you." Jack told me.

"Okay Smart guy then where are all the nice, decent guys that are attracted to me? Or is it just the sleaze? Trust me it's for the best. Relationships cause stress and emotions to run amok...both of which contribute to weight gain." I said with a laugh.

"He's out there! You just have to be patient. You shouldn't give up on love." Jack said.

"Jack...Growing up you were always popular and liked...and I was fat. If giving up on something that probably won't happen in the first place helps me stop bring the scared little fat girl...then I'm willing to sacrifice that. I don't want to be that way again." I said seriously and shaking my head. Jack sighed and squeezed my hand,

"You won't. I have faith in you. Meanwhile...I don't like this idea of you actually living in the factory!"

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well...who's to say what kind of guy Willy Wonka is? You saw those other four kids that came out of that factory six years ago...One was blue and another was a living bean pole! He could be a nut for all we know." Jack said going into protective big brother mode. I patted his cheek,

"Well it's a good thing I'm bringing my running shoes...then I can lose weight while I'm outrunning a crazy candy maker!"


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: I'm so happy so many of you responded and could identify with my OC. I hope she is someone you want to cheer for. For those of you who may be wondering why it will take three months to get an interview done inside a chocolate factory, rest assured. All will begin to come to light...in the next chapter! Meanwhile, Freddy arrives in England...and you know who makes an official appearance...sort of...Enjoy!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

**_ps. Still not too late to enter my fan art contest! See my profile and send me something by August 14th!_**

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Two day's later I was in London. I took a cab at the airport to the small town outside East London called Sweet Haven. It was mostly gray with unexpected dashes of bright colors. The autumn leaves falling added additional color and magic to the place. The driver stopped at a stop light on Cherry Lane. That's where I saw it. Now considered a historic landmark, the red building on the corner was the Original Wonka Candy Shop. Now it was a candy shop and museum dedicated to the town hero who brought the poor Industrial Town back on it's feet. Well at one point anyway. When Wonka had closed his factory and not let anyone return when he reopened hurt the village really badly. But, Wonka did rehire some drivers to at least enter his front courtyard and direct his massive fleet of trucks. And when a toothpaste factory opened on the other end of the town, the town was saved. Some say that it was no coincidence a toothpaste factory was built so close to a chocolate factory, but I think that was just conspiracy theory talking.

Finally, the black cab turned up a long narrow street and there was the factory in all her glory. It was the largest factory in the world, even bigger than some auto manufacture factories. It looked like a contemporary, massive Gothic castle, and Willy Wonka was the king. The cab stopped before the gigantic iron gates and I stepped out, getting vertigo just looking up to take it all in. The driver deposited my luggage on the side walk as I pulled out a handful of Euro,

"Can you help me bring those inside please?"

He looked up at me in disbelief, eyes like saucers,

"You mean you were serious? You're really allowed to go in there?"

"Well yeah, I'm a writer and...wait, what's it to you? Do you want a tip or not?" I asked him. I may have been a little harsh, but it was getting cold, I had killer jet lag and indigestion from the airplane food. Plus I was dieting in a chocolate factory. My life couldn't get any better. He looked up at the huge building, fear in his eyes,

"Part of me wants to go in...to satisfy that which plagues humanity...curiosity...but the part of my humanity that fears death tells me to stay away..."

"Um...yeah okay...Plato? Are you coming in or what?" I asked dryly. He sighed and grudgingly picked up my bags,

"Yeah yeah I suppose so..."

"Chivalry lives! Your mother must be so proud!" I quipped going up the square metal call box. I pushed the large purple button, a loud deep beep echoing off the outer stone walls. After waiting a moment, the driver grinned spinning on his heel,

"Well! Nobody's home! I heard the London Hilton is excellent Miss..." Before I could tell him to freeze, the gate clicked and slowly inched open all by itself. I watched in awe until I heard the squealing of tires. I turned my head and saw the cabby driving off, my bags on the sidewalk.

"Hey! Hey! I didn't pay you! Yeesh...well thank you Sir Scared-a-Lot!" I yelled in vain. I sighed, bending over to gather my bags together. Meanwhile, without my realization, a camera zoomed in on a closeup of my butt. A dark figure cast in shadow tilted his head this way and that, glancing in appreciation, before picking up at headset and putting it on over his chocolate brown hair. He replaced a tall silk black hat on his head and tapped the mike on.

"Who goes there?" he said making me jump.

"AAH!" I cried dropping my bags. As I clutched a hand to my beating heart, the faceless voice said while spinning around in his chair,

"Hellooo? Cat got your tongue? Because I wouldn't be surprised if they did get your tongue, pesky things."

Hesitating at the curious comment, finally I said,

"Uh...Sir? My name is Freddy James...I'm from..."

"First of all little girl, don't call me Sir! It makes me sound old! Secondly, what kind of name is Freddy for a girl? Hahaha..." the voice giggled twirling a cane in his fingers as he propped his black boots on the desk, a series of black and white surveillance screens before him, one by one showing my picture. Seriously, I could tell he was an adult male, but he giggled!

"Freddy's my nickname...Short for Winifred?" I offered. Silence followed a moment before he asked in a serious, slightly deeper voice,

"You have a 'W' name?"

"Well yes...but what does that have to do with any..."

"Step forward!" he ordered before leaving the room only to get catapulted back by the headset still on his ears. Of course, I couldn't see all the chaos, but I heard the crash and the mike squeal and strain. Covering my ears and blinking rapidly in pain, I waited until it died down before asking again,

"Sir? Sir! Are you there?" I shrugged, bending down to gather my things once more, cautiously stepping closer into one of the world's greatest mysteries. Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. The front doors loomed over me, beckoning me ever so closer. The only sounds I heard was my own breathing, the beating of my heart, and my Jimmy Choo's tapping on the cobblestones. To my wonder, the doors began to unlock big heavy locks. The doors began to slide aside showing another entryway. And as anticlimactic as it sounds, a tall skinny teenage boy in brown corduroy jeans, tanned sweater over a blue oxford shirt, and PF Flyers came out.

"Hullo!" he said in a smooth English accent, containing qualities of youth, but definitely past puberty. Seeing those same kind eyes and wide, charming and shy smile I saw in a picture now tucked away in my briefcase, I knew exactly who it was.

"Charlie Bucket I presume?"

He laughed trying not to blush,

"Yeah that's me." Then he furrowed his brow looking me over, "You're...not the Fred James from Lady Luck magazine are you?"

"Actually it's Freddy as in short for Winifred...but yes, I am from Lady Luck magazine. It's a pleasure to meet you Charlie." I said shaking his hand. He laughed looking me over from the top of my head to the soles of heels (yeah the kid was foot taller than me, I hate being short) ,

"Oh ho ho...Willy was not expecting you..."

"What do you mean?" I asked. He bent down to take my bags from me,

"Come, I'll explain inside. Let's get you out of this cold first hmm?"

"Thank you Charlie!" I exclaimed, my faith in mankind restored a little. At least future generations of women had hope. He even struggled to pull open the door for me. I stepped into a fifty foot tall cathedral ceiling foyer, a long red carpet dotted with gold 'W's down the long hallway. That's when I noticed it was stifling! I began to unbutton my ivory wool coat, commenting to Charlie as he kicked the door closed,

"Whew! It's hot in here! Doesn't this heat invite the chocolate to melt?"

"Not Wonka chocolate!" he said with pride before adding as he began to walk ahead, "Besides, our workers are used to a warm climate."

"Workers? You mean people are working here? Who?" I asked. He hesitated before not so subtlety switching subjects,

"You wanted to know why Willy wasn't expecting you right? Well it's because you're a girl...and Willy's under the impression that girls have girls names, and boys have boys names. I'm still trying to explain to him the concept of Leslie."

"What is he? Three years old?" I asked jokingly. But Charlie wasn't kidding as he mumbled under his breath,

"Sometimes..."

"So Charlie...why are you schlepping my stuff around for anyway? In a few years you're going to have your own chocolate factory." I inquired.

"Well, my family and I discussed it with Willy, and my mum thought it was best if somebody practical prepared you." Charlie said as I gradually noticed the long hallway wasn't so long, but a optical illusion, getting smaller and smaller until we had to stoop over, our heads touching the ceiling.

"Prepare me for what?" A small tiny door was before us and I doubted I could get my size ten butt through there. Charlie gave a mischievous but apologetic grin as he began to push on the door,

"For the craziest three months of your life!" The door was another optical illusion, for it was a really large door that opened up to a sight that made my jaw drop to my stilettos. Laying before me, was a colorful, magical Garden of Eden...made entirely of candy.

There were rolling green hills, red and white striped trees like bonsai trees, bushes, flowers, even a chocolate squirrel running here and there, with chocolate birds flying overhead. To top it all off, was a chocolate waterfall starting at the other end of the room. Charlie smiled at my gaping wonder and said,

"This is the Chocolate Room. Almost everything in this room in eatable. The trees, the grass, the animals. All except my family's house. That we moved into the factory after I agreed to come here. Come on then. Supper's on the table." I followed behind him, trying to take in everything, when I noticed a noise coming from the bushes around us. For a moment I thought I caught a glimpse of a black top hat, but then it was gone. I returned my gaze forward where a darling sight met my eyes. A little house, slightly crooked, repainted a charming white with red shutters rested on the top of the highest hill in the Chocolate Room. Charlie set my bags down and entered the front door, letting me in first as he called,

"Evening Buckets!"

There were four elderly grandparents, only one standing and helping to set the table,the other three lying in a bed by the fireplace. Also there was a tall, slightly attractive middle aged man with graying black hair and a pretty little woman with long brown curls standing over a hot stove. They all shouted in unison,

"Good evening Charlie!"

"Oh Charlie, who's this?" asked one of the grandmothers.

"Apples!" said the other grandmother sweetly looking up into my eyes.

"This...is Miss Winifred James...from that American magazine Willy agreed to do the story with..." Charlie explained. I extended my hand towards Mr. Bucket,

"But you can just call me Freddy. How do you all do!" Charlie's father looked questioningly to Charlie who simply shrugged and then he greeted me in a warm smile,

"Welcome to England Miss Freddy. My name's Sam and this is my wife Kara." Kara Bucket stepped forward and shook my hand, gesturing towards the grandparents,

"Very nice to meet you! And this is my mother and father, Grandpa Joe and Grandma Josephine, and my father and mother in law Grandpa George and Grandma Georgina."

"Hello all." I said nodding to them. Grandpa George started laughing his old bald head off,

"HA! Old Wonka's going to soil his pants when he finds out about this! HAHAHA!"

"Pop..."warned Sam wrapping an arm around Kara's waist.

"What George means is Miss James...is that none of us really...were expecting such a pretty young lady coming." Grandpa Joe told me. I smiled at the compliment, and Grandpa George added under his breath,

"Especially one with great legs..."

"POP!" hissed Sam. I tried to control my laughter,

"So when will I meet Mr. Wonka?"

"Well he should be along any moment for supper. So you'll join us won't you?" asked Kara. I lifted my arms up off my sides a bit in a shrug,

"Absolutely!" We sat down to supper, which was a task in itself because I had to decline generous servings of food. But Mr. Wonka never showed up. As Kara pulled out a rather tempting chocolate cake for dessert, I asked Charlie,

"Do you think I could excuse myself to my room? I've got killer jet lag."

"Sure...I'll show you...And while you're getting settled, I'll talk to Willy and see if he wants to talk to you tonight. Alright?" asked Charlie getting up.

"Works for me." I said as Charlie turned to his mother,

"May we be excused?" I stared in disbelief. Growing up, Jack never asked permission to leave the table. ..and neither did I since I never left the table. But I digress. Kara smiled,

"I'll save you both a slice of cake."

"Oh no...that's perfectly alright...Charlie can have my piece...Goodnight everybody!" I said with a wave out the door. I stopped when I noticed my luggage was gone. "Uh...Charlie? Where's my stuff?" I asked. Looking to the spot, Charlie tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled,

"Oh...they must have already come and gone to take your stuff to your room." As he walked off without another word, I chased after him demanding,

"Who!"

Charlie led me to a hidden door on the side of the Chocolate room, opening it to reveal a short spiral staircase. Up the stairs, was a long gold and crème marble hallway with different colored doors. As we passed a few, I noticed the names on the doors,

**WHITE CHERRY CHOCOLATE**

**BLUEBERRY DREAM**

**ORANGE AND LIME SHERBET**

Stopping at a room labeled **MINT CHOCOLATE, **Charlie pulled out a small key ring with about ten keys. I asked eying the rooms,

"Are these rooms with certain flavors or something?"

"Decor...These are Mr. Wonka's guest rooms." Charlie said opening the door and switching on the lights. I gasped in delight. The room was various shades of rich browns with mint green accents. A large four poster bed was in the center of the room, with a small sitting area to the side made of a couch, two plush armchairs and a coffee table and a fireplace. One door on the side of the fireplace led to a large mint green bathroom with chocolate accents, a second door on the opposite end of the room was a large dressing area, a walk in closet to top all walk ins. I noticed all of my clothes were already unpacked and put away. Even my shoes were nice and neat in their own little cubby holes. Before I could ask who did all this, Charlie went over to a small writing desk and picked up a violet colored envelope.

"Oh look...Willy left you a note." he said handing it to me. I opened the note finding black stationary with gold ink writing,

_'Dear Miss James, _

_I, Willy Wonka welcome you to my chocolate factory. I hope the room is to your liking. I ask that you join me tomorrow morning for breakfast in my private conference room. And then we can talk a little in my office if you like. I apologize for not greeting you tonight, but unforeseen circumstances came up. So until tomorrow morning, promptly at eight o'clock. Don't be late! I will send one of my workers to wake you in the morning. _

_Sincerely, _

_WW'_

"Well...looks like I'm meeting Mr. Wonka for breakfast tomorrow." I told Charlie tucking the note away.

"Well I got school tomorrow morning, so I won't see you until tomorrow afternoon. So I'll say goodnight to you then." Charlie said turning towards the door.

"Thanks Charlie...Goodnight." I called after him.

"Goodnight." he said closing the door behind him. Charlie didn't get two feet down the hall, when a purple latex glove reached out from behind a column and yanked him into the shadows. Although Charlie couldn't see his face, he knew who it was.

"Willy! Have you gone batty? You nearly scared me to death!" Charlie snapped at the chocolate maker.

"Sorry! But we have to talk!" Willy whispered.

"Alright what is it? I have to study maths for tomorrow." Charlie sighed and folded his arms across his chest. Willy took a deep breath,

"Charlie...the writer from the magazine is a woman!"

Charlie laughed,

"I know that Willy."

"But I didn't...I didn't know she was pretty either." Willy said.

"So what's the big deal?" asked Charlie.

"Well...when I saw her in my cameras today...I...felt funny..." Willy said.

"How so?" asked Charlie in concern.

"Well, it started in my chest, not painful just something...then it moved up in my throat...and then...south..." Willy said cryptically.

"South?" asked Charlie.

"South!" Willy said casting his eyes in the direction of his boots.

"Oh...that south!" Charlie nodded in understanding.

"So you know what's wrong with me? I mean we have to get to the bottom of this before the candy starts to taste like how I feel...funny!" Willy said innocently. Charlie shook his head and laughed,

"Uh yeah...we wouldn't want that!"

"So will you help me?" Willy pleaded. As Charlie sighed and silently nodded his agreement to help, knowing his elder friend was going to be shocked when he discovered what he was feeling; I was turning down my covers for the night, finding the chocolate on the pillow. I bit my lower lip as it taunted me...then I picked it up...the aroma of sweet chocolate wafting up to my nostrils, before I went over to the waste basket and threw it out. I sighed in relief and turned in, proud of myself for passing my second test of the night. Little did I know the next three months weren't going to be that easy.

* * *

**_Preview_**

**_Coming soon to F . F. Net_**

**_Switcheroo_**

_**Sarah Barnes is a lonely bar maid at a inn in Montserrat. She dreams of love and adventure, but bound by English rules of exile, the young Irish woman is trapped. Until the stormy night a handsome and dripping wet sailor seeks shelter. He mystifies her with his golden grin, high cheekbones, exotic hair and deep brown eyes. But his manners are deplorable, he only thinks of himself and he's a wicked womanizer. He tries to give Sarah a pretty trinket in exchange for a role in the hay, but she merely wishes she had his life. He in turn wishes he understood women. When they wake the next morning, they are shocked to discover that they are in each others bodies! And Sarah is even more shocked to discover her mysterious sailor is the infamous pirate Captain Jack Sparrow! Turns out that pretty trinket was a cursed talisman that grants wishes. When it won't work anymore, Jack (now in Sarah's body) takes Sarah (now in Jack's body) to Tia Dalma's where the voodoo priestess tells them that the only way to counter the wishes is with a second talisman...whose location is unknown save for a map owned by a particularly nasty pirate. As Sarah finds herself dodging Navy men, enemy pirates, superstitious crew members, and magic forces, she also comes to realize that Captain Sparrow is not all that he seems. And Jack soon learns what it means to be a woman in a man's world. And what's this? Could they learn to fall in love as well?**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Thanks to so many who reviewed. Not too late to join the club...or enter my fan art contest. Deadline is midnight on August 15th. SOMEBODY PLEASE ENTER!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

* * *

I woke to the sound of curtains being drawn back, letting in the bright warm sunshine. I blinked a few times, feeling positively snuggly under the covers. Then I turned over on my back, stretching all my muscles from my arms to my toes feeling as if I could melt into the covers. I don't remember the last time I slept that soundly. The bed was so soft and inviting. And they smelled like lavender, not mint as the rest of the decor suggested. I heard someone shuffling about in my closet and then heard footsteps stop before the foot of themselves the bed. I sat up, my black bed head sticking out at all angles before a puzzled expression caused me to pout my lips. No one seemed to be in the room.

"Hello?" I called looking to the closet. A small cough brought my attention back to the foot of the bed. I crawled to the edge and gasped. There was a tiny man in a red vinyl jumpsuit, no higher than my knee! He looked up at me with a dull, waiting expression and big black eyes. He had an orange brown complexion and black hair pulled back into a tight bun on the top of his head. My mouth hanged open a moment before I closed it, figuring that it might be rude.

"Um...hello?" I tried. Without a word he held up a small violet envelope. I pulled out a small note in black paper and gold ink, the handwriting small.

_Dear Lady Visitor, _

_My name is Murray. I am of a people called the Oompah Loompahs. The Great Tall Cocoa Bean Man saved us from our sorry existence and brought us here to work for him. Unfortunately, not many of us can speak English, but we do understand it when spoken to and as you can see, we can write it. The Great Tall Cocoa Bean Man asked me to be your valet during your stay. I have taken the liberty of laying out an appropriate ensemble and will wait for you outside the door to take you to breakfast. If there is anything you ever require during your stay, do not hesitate to ask. _

_Kindest regards, _

_Murray_

I looked back up at the strange little man, taking all this new information in before I nodded and said,

"Thank you Murray." Then he crossed his arms over his chest and bowed slightly, before putting his arms down and walking out the door. I watched him go, scarcely believing he existed. I got out of the bed, putting Murray's note on the desk, taking a moment to look out my window. Over the roof of some of the factory, laid Sweet Haven, the rising sun still casting pinks and oranges on the horizon line. I turned to my dressing room, finding a pair of jeans, flat light brown ballet slippers, and a bright Kelly green gingham shirt with three quarter length sleeves. Murray even picked out a blue green pendant on a gold chain and matching gold bangle bracelets to accessorize. I shrugged, coming to the conclusion that Murray had good taste. But as I dressed and completed my morning toilet, I couldn't help but get the feeling that I was getting ready to go on a blind date. Shaking off the silly notion, I left my room, tape recorder in hand and met Murray out in the hall.

I only caught glimpses, but the rooms we passed were marvels. In one room I saw fireworks, another room seemed to have a horde of squirrels shelling nuts. A third room saw a pasture of pink sheep. Finally we approached a large set of double doors, a large 'WW' painted on the front in gold. Murray pushed on the door and held it open for me to enter. What a gentleman. I was in a front office, another set of double doors with the double 'W' to the front of me. To the left sat a desk, once belonging to a private secretary, but now it served as a mantel for all of the awards and plaques awarded Mr. Wonka for candy making. To the right was a blue and green polka dot conference room, with oak panel chair railings and oak furniture. To my fear, there was also a large assortment of food on the kidney shaped table surrounded by deep blue velvet chairs, the backs shaped in a squiggle.

"Oy vey..."I sighed thinking of all the calories. I mean honestly, doesn't just looking at food cause some women to balloon up? I think I read a scientific study about that once. Meanwhile, Murry had stepped forward to the main office and knocked.

"Yeah?" came the voice within. Murray entered silently and the owner of the voice looked up from his paperwork and smiled, "Oh! She's here for breakfast? Oh good! Be right there."

I was looking around at the dining room, my eyes avoiding the rich food before me, when a voice cleared his throat at the door. I turned, my mouth opening just a bit at the sight before me. Willy Wonka in the flesh.

He was tall at six feet, but the black silk top hat he wore made him look taller. He put most of his weight on one black boot with a red 'W' stitched on the top, his right hand tucked into the pocket of his black slacks. He wore a asymmetrical black satin vest over a rainbow print oxford shirt and a blood red cravat to match his violet red velvet overcoat. A gold 'W' brooch sparkled against the cravat. He twirled a cane filled with Wonka Nerds in his left hand, which wore a purple latex glove.

What surprised me the most was how handsome he was. He was very pale, almost sickly. But his high cheekbones and Roman nose more than made up for it. He cut his reddish brown hair in a pageboy cut. But he had dark amethyst eyes that sparkled like a fine wine. Those eyes regarded me dully as he smirked a little and said,

"You must be Miss James."

I smiled and extended my hand to shake his,

"Yes I am. And it's very nice to meet you Mr. Wonka."

Wonka immediately stepped back,

"Uh...yeah...one thing...I don't touch people...Well now I don't touch people I just meet. I have to get to know you first, kay?" he asked with a wide plastic grin. It unnerved me a little how straight and white those teeth were, but I nodded lowering my hand.

"Of course."

"So come on. Have a seat...dig in!" he said going to his chair at the head of the table.

"Thank you...um...So...What kept you from meeting me last night?" I asked as Murray pulled out my chair for me. Wonka sat down setting his cane aside,

"Oh you know...work stuff. But why place all the blame on me? You could have insisted on coming to see me."

"But...you didn't have time for me." I said my eyes darting to the side. He held up a pointer finger,

"Persistence is a virtue!"

"So is consideration." I countered.

"You know Miss James it's not too late to return to New York." Wonka said placing his napkin in his lap. I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips.

"Does that thinly veiled contemptuous remark mean that if I don't do what you want you'll cancel the interview?" I asked.

"Pretty much." Wonka said digging into the eggs. I took a deep calming breath. My inner feminist was riled up, I was hungry and dieting in a chocolate factory. I wasn't in the mood to argue. Plus my job needed this interview. I gritted my teeth and replied,

"Alright then. From now on, I'll do what you want even if you don't ask."

"Now that's silly! How can you possibly know what I want you to do if I don't ask you to do something?" Wonka asked.

"But you just said..." I started.

""I guess you'll just have to ask me what I want you to do so you can do what I want." Wonka said.

"Oh-kay..." I said confused and filling my own plate.

"Groovy! Would you like some chocolate chip waffles? Made only with Wonka chocolate chips of course!" Wonka offered.

"No thank you." I said amazed as the man shrugged and filled his plate with three waffles dripping with syrup, scrambled eggs, four sausages, two pieces of toast with jam, hashbrowns and a glass of chocolate milk.

"You're going to eat all of that?" I asked digging into my own plate of eggs, one piece of toast and two sausages.

"If I didn't I'd be starving by dinner time because I get so distracted with my work I forget to take lunch." Wonka explained. I was amazed. That was the first answer he gave her that made any sort of sense.

"Oh that makes sense. But aren't you afraid of gaining weight?" I asked him.

"Oh I never gain weight. My doctor says I have an incredibly fast metabolism. Like a hummingbird's!" Wonka told her his mouth full of waffles. _Of course! _I thought mentally rolling my eyes at another skinny person who could eat like a pig. We sat in silence and ate for a few minutes, giving me time to collect my thoughts. I wanted to start asking him about his childhood. Learn about his parents, how they shaped his life, all that jazz. I started by asking,

"So Mr. Wonka. I notice you have an American accent. Where are you from?"

"America." Willy said between bites. I laughed,

"Well I know that..."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Well I wanted to know where in America you're from." I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because people want to know." I answered.

"What people?" asked Willy chewing on his waffles. I shrugged,

"Well, I can at least say the readers of Lady Luck magazine. Who happen to be young single career women."

"Like you?" Willy asked. That question caught me off guard. I did represent every reader at Lady Luck. I was young, hopelessly single, and if it weren't for my career, I would have no life. Yet he was completely innocent in his question as he took a plastic swizzle straw, placed it in his milk, blew some bubbles and then took a few sips.

"Uh...yeah...what was I asking again?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Okay...um...how about this question. Why did you contact Lady Luck and ask for an interview?" I asked.

"I told your editor. There was this really funny ad in there with a dog, a duck and a blond..." Wonka started to explain. I interrupted,

"Okay...okay...um...Why let me stay three months? Can't three weeks or even three days be enough time for an interview?"

"Oh heavens no! It takes three months alone just to completely see the factory." Wonka said seriously.

"You mean...you're going to show me everything?" I asked in total disbelief. Why would he show me everything? Didn't he understand I would basically publish all his secrets in hundreds of millions of magazines to an entire country? It didn't make any sense. He only added to the mystery, when he took out a pocket watch and opened the face,

"Certainly! In fact...we better get started. It's already ten past the lemon drop. We have so little to do and so much time to do it!" And taking up his cane and depositing his napkin on the table, he stood and grabbed my wrist pulling me up. Then he paused and said, "Strike that...reverse it!"

"Okay..."I said confused as he yanked me out towards the door.

* * *

_Sparrow's Nest_

_The small island town of Sparrow's Nest off the coast of South Carolina USA was founded by a pirate. Captain Jack Sparrow. He used the island as his own special cache and hideout, his crewmen eventually settling down and starting families there. Then one day, he and his ship the Black Pearl set sail to find the treasure of the Bermuda Triangle. Before he went, he passed a law in the town that upon his return, he would rule Sparrow's Nest once more. He and the Black Pearl were never to be seen again. Three hundred years later, the small town is a popular tourist attraction for the history buff, pirate lovers and sunbathers...until a black ship with black sails coasts into the harbor one night. The town of Sparrow's Nest wake to discover Captain Sparrow has returned, having been trapped in the Triangle these three hundred years. The handsome, cunning pirate is welcomed with open arms, but he's determined to take his rightful place as pirate king, find his lost treasure trove, and win the heart of the bonnie Miss Melanie Thames, the engaged owner of the Turner Inn._


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Okay, short chapter...but major plot point ahead! I'm a little ahead of writing this story, it's just a matter of when I can sit down and type out what I've written on paper. (Yeah I know, writing fan fiction on paper...foreign concept. But I've got to do something during my lunch break and I don't have a laptop) _**

**_Meanwhile, doesn't ANYONE with drawing capabilities want to submit fan art for my contest? At this point I'd take stick figures. Please? With Wonka, Captain Jack, Erik and Sportacus Ten on top? (pouts then says 'Wait a minute...that didn't sound right') _**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

* * *

Mr. Willy Wonka led me through the halls of the factory rapidly.

"Kitchen, Fudge Room, Licorice, Taffy Maker...Get it? Got it? Good! Moving on!" he said casting his hands in random directions. I tried to look through each door, but I was also trying to catch up with Mr. Wonka. At least I was getting my cardio in.

"Uh...Mr. Wonka...Would you tell me about your parents?" I asked. Just then, I hit a wall. Not figuratively in the fact I ran out of breath and steam to keep walking, but literally into a wall. I looked up realizing it wasn't a wall but a Wonka. Mr. Wonka in fact. I edged around to his blank expression staring out into space. Good night...was he having a stroke? Do I call 911? Wait...this was England. They don't have 911 do they? As I was trying to figure all of this out, Willy was reliving memories.

* * *

_His Mama was the prettiest of all mamas. That was the conclusion he made as he watched her brush her long auburn locks. She was getting ready to go to work for the day at Mr. Kelly's drugstore. _

"_Mama? Can you bring me back a piece of chocolate?" the three year old asked sweetly. _

"_Willy...you know how your Father feels. He wants to wait until your old enough to handle it." she replied._

"_I am old enough I promise!" Willy pleaded._

"_I know Sweets...but your father is a dentist...And well...the only way he knows how to take care of people is by taking care of their teeth. He does love you...never forget that. But...he just knows no other way to show it then your teeth. And he strongly feels that little boys don't know how to restrain themselves with just one piece. And knowing you, I feel in this case...he's right." Mrs. Wonka said wisely._

"_Why Mama?" he asked with a pout. She smiled gently in that way only mother's could._

"_Because you Sweets...are a very scientific, inquisitive, and stubborn person...Just like me! When we get fixed on an idea, we don't let it go. For all I know...your first piece of chocolate might make you want to start your own candy shop!" she said with a wonderful, melodious laugh. _

"_Please Mama? Papa lets you have chocolate...they all smell so good!" Willy pleaded. Mrs. Wonka sighed and relented, _

"_Alright...how can I deny those gorgeous eyes of yours? After I get off work...I'll bring home one piece of chocolate for you. Understood?" she said as her son nodded gratefully and jumped into her lap, throwing his arms around her neck and showering her face with kisses. She never came home that night.

* * *

_

As the memory of Willy's mother faded with her laughter, Willy heard me saying,

"Testing one, two, three...testing! Is this thing on? Hellooo?"

When I tapped on his forehead he jumped back and then quickly recovered his collected composure,

"I'm sorry...I just had another one of my flashbacks."

"Flashbacks?" I asked confused.

"You know...Memories...reflections...that junk?" Willy explained.

"So...what was the memory about?" I asked innocently. Mr. Wonka considered telling me the truth for almost a full minute, when he chose to say instead,

"Oh! I need to show you the Chocolate Room. Step lively!" I sighed in frustration but reluctantly followed behind him.

* * *

The Chocolate Room laid before us in all its glory. And it was either the air conditioner or Wonka had even managed to create an artificial breeze. Wonka began pointing out various creations like his lollipop trees, candy gourds filled with gooey filling, and one of the chocolate squirrels who chattered away at Wonka when he broke off a piece of his tail.

"Here..." he said offering the piece of chocolate, "Have a taste!"

"Um...no thank you. So Mr. Wonka, what can you tell me about your waterfall?" I said. It was all I could think of.

"Yeah yeah yeah...only chocolate waterfall in the world...light and frothy...mixes it...bank...Try my squirrel!" Wonka said pushing the chocolate under my nose.

"I'd rather not Mr. Wonka..." I told him pushing his hand away when in truth I really rather would.

"Oh come now! Just a little bite." he urged.

"I can't."

"Why not?" he asked, that big plastic grin creeping me out again. Do I tell him the truth? Could a guy cooped up in a chocolate factory all day and not gain an ounce really have a grasp on my quest to lose weight? More than likely not. I did the only thing I could think of. Lied through my teeth.

"I don't like chocolate."

He stared blankly at me for a moment. I though he might be having one of those flashback thingys again, when he said through his clenched and forced smile,

"What?"

"I'm sorry...I like other kind of candy...just...not chocolate." I said. Good Grannie I did it again! I guess a good lie is like having kids. After the second time it gets easier...or so my father has reminded my brother his whole life.

"I see..." he said though his smile again. Then he slowly spun on his heel and began to quickly and tensely walk away.

"Mr. Wonka?" I asked beginning to follow him. He only broke off into a run towards a secret door on the other side of a cherry tart tree. He slammed the door in my face. Yup. Definitely a bad idea to lie about chocolate.


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: Finally got a chance to sit down and type out what I have written! I think this chapter will please everyone. Please review! Tell me what you think. And if anyone wants to do that with a visual (AKA a fanart) please do!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

"She doesn't like chocolate Charlie!" Willy exclaimed as if the very thought was unthinkable, which in his case, it was. "How can I live in the same factory with somebody who doesn't like chocolate?" Willy pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat slumped in his desk chair.

"Not everyone likes chocolate Willy. And you said she did like other candy right?" Charlie asked sitting on the edge of Willy's desk.

"Yeah...I guess so..." Willy admitted reluctantly.

"I'm sorry...What was that? Mumbler?" Charlie asked with a hand to his ear.

"Charlie! How can I expect her to get the whole Wonka factory experience if she doesn't like chocolate?" asked Willy.

"Considering we're about to completely renovate the factory and change everything, I shouldn't think it would matter much." Charlie pointed out folding his arms over his chest. Willy slapped his desk,

"You're right! We're about to change all the equipment and rooms anyway...So the old wonder of the factory won't matter anymore! I'll simply have to grin and bear her."

"Don't you mean...Grin and bear it?" Charlie asked.

"No." Willy said. Charlie sighed,

"Well...you can start tonight at supper."

Willy's smile faded,

"Oh yeah...Can't we just order her a pizza and let her eat in her room?"

"You know my mother. What do you think?" Charlie asked with a smirk.

"What time does she want me there?" Willy asked with a sigh.

"Promptly at seven. As always." Charlie said walking out of the office with his hands in his pockets.

"Charlie..." Willy stopped Charlie from walking out the door. Charlie waited patiently as Willy continued, "You're way too mature to be sixteen."

"Fifteen years, nine months and four days to be precise." Charlie smiled.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

"Do you think he'll let me stay Kara?" I asked the older woman.

"Oh sure...He let Grandpa George stay didn't he? He thinks the whole factory is silly." Kara remarked with a smile tugging up her lips. Laying back with his eyes closed, Grandpa George commented,

"I'm old and crippled not deaf!"

"I like grapes!" Grandma Georgina proclaimed.

"Point being, Willy is...of all things...sensible..." Kara said as Grandpa George lifted his head in protest, "Despite what Grandpa George says!" Kara added cutting him off at the pass.

"I don't know...After breakfast this morning I'm rather inclined to believe the opposite right alongside George here." I told Kara taking the stacks of plates from her.

"Knew I liked her." Grandpa George said. I smiled and set the table for a few moments, when Grandpa Joe came in wearing a purple vest.

"Evening Buckets! And Miss Freddy!" he said closing the door.

"How was work today dear?" Grandma Josephine asked. Her husband leaned in for a peck on her lips and said,

"The shop is a friendly place once more!"

"Grandpa Joe is a tour guide at the original candy shop on Cherry Lane." Josephine explained with pride.

"You know, I use to work there twenty years ago." Grandpa Joe said unbuttoning his vest.

"Really?" Mr. Wonka seems so young." I asked.

"He is young. He started his company when he was fifteen." Grandpa Joe said taking down come glasses.

"What else do you know about him Grandpa Joe?" I asked switching my recorder on. Finally! A break! A lead! Something! Anything better than the population of Guam!

"Well...you know how he dresses?" Grandpa Joe asked. Okay little random, but I prayed it was leading somewhere as I nodded and said,

"Like a Goth ringmaster shopping at Hot Topic? What about it?"

"He didn't always dress that way." Joe said.

"Well he must have worn diapers once..." I said. Grandpa Joe laughed,

"Oh no...what I mean is, when he started out, he dressed in an ordinary way like the rest of us. White oxford shirt, gray slacks. When nobody wanted to take him seriously as a candy maker, he decided to go out and buy himself a proper suit. Well he went to Ferguson's Clothes Emporium on Brandberry Street. That's a gently used clothing store. There wasn't much to choose from. All he could afford at the time, was a pair of black slacks, a purple shirt, a black vest and a maroon velvet tailcoat nobody wanted. But without a top hat and cane, it didn't look right. So Willy found the top hat and cane in an old magician's trunk. People thought he looked like a person who made candy for a living, so they began to buy it all up. Soon the candy could start selling itself, but Willy kept the look. It suits him, wouldn't you agree?" said Grandpa Joe finishing his story.

"It does...in a weird way..." I admitted with a smile as I turned off my tape recorder. I made a note to myself to talk to Grandpa Joe more often in the next three months.

"Evening Buckets!" Sam said entering the house.

"Good evening!" we all chorused. I was almost expecting John Boy Walton to come down the stairs.

"Good day at the toothpaste factory dear?" Kara asked giving him a kiss.

"Oh always...but you know it's funny. Tom says they made this years quota already." Sam said sitting down a moment.

"Well that's good right?" asked Kara.

"Oh yeah but...Tom asked me if it had anything to do with Mr. Wonka shipping out his latest shipment of Wonka bars." Sam said.

"Oh that's silly. Willy has sent out plenty of candy before and toothpaste sales weren't up." Grandma Josephine said taking up her knitting.

"You know my Internet friend on-line?" Grandpa George spoke up. "He thinks Wonka is a shareholder in the toothpaste factory!"

"Oh Pop! That's conspiracy theory talking!" Sam said.

"Mr. Wonka is just a good candyman." Grandpa Joe said.

"Right!" Grandma Georgina said.

"Do you even know what we're talking about?" George asked her. Grandma Georgina looked at him blankly,

"Dragonflies?"

I had to laugh softly to myself for a moment. The Bucket family reminded me of my family back home. While me and Jack went up to New York to pursue our careers, the Jones clan originates from Lexington Kentucky. Our father raises horses for racing with my uncle, Paul Riker and his son Paul Junior. Those three are the biggest rednecks and good ol' boys you've ever met. To them, cow tipping should be an Olympic event. Then there's my Aunt Mixon or Mixy as we all call her. If you looked up scatterbrained and best cook in the world, you'd find her picture. The matriarch of the family is Grandma Riker. A grand old Southern lady, class through and through, she still wears gloves and a hat everywhere she goes. I wish I could be more like her. But I'm not what you'd call, 'genteel'. Grandma Riker says it comes with age. I say fooey.

Speaking of fooey, in came Willy Wonka and Charlie.

"Evening Buckets! And Freddy!" Charlie greeted the room.

"Good evening Charlie! Good evening Willy!" the Bucket family said.

"Do you always greet each other like the Cleaver family?" I asked.

"Annoying isn't it?" Grandpa George said.

"Pop!" warned Sam.

"Doesn't your family have any quirks, Miss Jones? Idiosyncrasies? Customs? Rituals? Religious sacrifices?" Willy asked taking his top hat off, the first time letting me see he had reddish brown hair cut into thick layers that fell into his eyes. For some reason, I had to shake the thought of running my fingers through his hair out of my head as I replied,

"If you mean little stuff that looks weird to others, heck yeah! I don't think you're a real family without them!"

"Oh that's true. When I was a girl, my mother always whistled to greet my father. He called her his little songbird!" Grandma Josephine laughed. Wonka tapped his fingers on the table.

"Yeah that's cute...So Miss Jones! How long have you hated chocolate?" Willy asked me with that plastic grin of his. Everyone paused to look at me in shock, while Charlie slapped Willy upside the head.

"OW!" cried Willy rubbing the back of his head. I cleared my throat. It was just a little while lie. It was a good safe way to stay away from that which would ruin me. So why did I feel like the scum of the Earth by lying to these nice people? I ignored that annoying little voice inside me looking Mr. Wonka right in the eye,

"I don't hate chocolate. I just don't care for it. That's all."

"So...you're saying you could be convinced to like chocolate?" Willy asked.

"I didn't say that!" I said forcing a smile of my own.

"But if I were to say...find a type of chocolate that you might like...Would you change your mind then?" He asked. Uh oh. Willy looked like he had a plan brewing in those gorgeous amethyst eyes of his. Wait...Did I just think he eyes were gorgeous? Never mind.

"I can't say." I said with a shrug.

"Okie dokie then." he said clamming up. So did that mean he was dropping it all together or dropping it for now? Oy this wasn't good. Breaking the silence, Kara said to Sam,

"So...Sam dear...Why don't you tell Willy what Tom told you? "

The talk turned to other things. Charlie's school, candy ideas, Grandpa George's adventures on line, and Grandma Josephine's new scarf. We talked about everything but every time I tried to ask Wonka something about himself or his past, he'd give off some random fact like the weight of a elephant's foot, the speed of a hummingbird, or how many licks it does take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop,

Finally, after dessert (for everyone but me) Mr. Wonka and I walked out of the Bucket House together in an awkward silence.

"Goodnight Miss James." Wonka said bringing his cane to rest on his shoulder and tucking a hand into his slacks.

"Wait Mr. Wonka! What about the interview? The tour? What time should I come to your office in the morning?" I asked.

"I don't know." Willy said with a shrug.

"Okay...that's it. Mr. Wonka I say this with all professionalism and respect. You are GOING to meet me at my door bright and early in the morning at eight to escort me to breakfast yourself! YOU ARE going to show me around your factory and answer my questions like I need them answered. IS THAT CLEAR?" I said with a dangerous twitch to my eye. He looked at me blankly before saying,

"You have a cute nose."

"What?" I said confused.

"When you get all mad like that it gets all...schrunchilly...It becomes you." he said and to my genuine surprise, he gave me a real smile. I felt my stomach flip flop. It was a nice smile. Dang it. Lord help me...it was a really nice smile!

"Thank you..." I said reluctantly.

"Goodnight Miss James." Willy said before turning and whistling off.

"Oy vey..." I groaned. It was bad enough I had to diet in a chocolate factory. Now I had to do it while fighting off that flip flop of my stomach while he gave me great smiles like that one. Again, oy vey.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: It's back! The little line thingy is back! Yay! And so am I! Double yay! Sorry about the wait. Work's been crazy and my comp crashed on me. I will continue to work on my stories, but it will be a slow process seeing as I'm working on my rent's comp till I get money to get mine fixed. To quote Freddy and the Nanny, Oy...**_

**_On a side note, for those of you wondering about Smell of Peanuts...yeah...that's gonna take longer...cause...well...didn't get that saved to the rents comp! Opps...Apologies...Now, enought rambling. I'm going to let you read and review while I see about getting another chapter for another story done._**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

* * *

I woke to a loud pounding on my door. I was so startled I got tangled in the sheets and fell off the bed. I cried out a yipe before getting to my feet, wobbling over to the door, trying to wake up. The pounding became a rhythm of a conga beat, when I opened the door to find Willy Wonka standing there. He caught his cane before he hit me in the chest and stood there in awkward silence. He looked at my wild bed head, the black mass sticking out like I got electrocuted and he began to snicker. I rolled my eyes and yawned,

"What time is it?"

"Two past the licorice stick." he answered.

"And in English?" I asked sarcastically. Without missing a beat he said,

"Eight o'clock. Just like you told me. Actually I believe it was a command but I was distracted by how cute your nose..."

I interrupted him, by snapping my eyes wide open and jumping ten feet in the air.

"Holy smoke! I slept in! I never sleep in! I'm so sorry Mr. Wonka!" I said scrambling about my room trying to figure out where those Oompah Loompahs had put my clothes. Watching me bend over to retrieve the blankets from the floor, Willy shook his head,

"Oh think nothing of it."

"Jees I haven't overslept since college! It's totally unprofessional. Give me two minutes and I'll be right out!" I told him retreating into the changing room.

"Take your time!" Willy called casually entering the room. He absentmindedly looked about my things. Since I was going to be here three months, I brought pictures of my family and had them lying around on the dresser. He saw a picture of me fighting with Jack, me, my father and a horse, my grandmother, my mother. But what he noticed most of all, were two things. One, I was a lot heavier than now. Willy speculated I was now at least half the size I was then. Then with a grin, he noticed a picture of my sixteenth birthday party. And my mother was presenting me with a _chocolate_ cake. Putting two and two together, Willy smiled to himself as I came out in gray slacks, a silk and lace yellow blouse (which Willy noticed with a gulp looked a lot like lingerie) and a short yellow sweater I tied in front. Yellow pumps completed the look, and my hair was tied back with a yellow ribbon.

"Ready?" I asked putting on some bangle bracelets.

"And willing..."Willy said getting that funny feeling again. I looked up in confusion and asked,

"What was that?"

"Let's boogie!" he said leading the way out with that plastic smile as I furrowed my brow and followed him. I followed him out into the hall where he stopped before a glass doorway. It opened with a ding as Willy said,

"Let's take the elevator. It will save gobstoppers of time!"

"What kind of elevator is this?" I asked as I was pulled into a clear glass elevator with buttons everywhere.

"The best kind. This is no ordinary boring up and down elevator. This elevator can go slantways, sideways, acrossways, crossways and anyways you can think of! It goes to every room in the factory." Willy explained closing the door. Before I could prepare myself, the elevator took off like a shot, zooming sideways at lightning speed. I crashed painfully into the side of the elevator, Wonka standing perfectly still and use to the inertia. At least he did, until the elevator changed directions and I crashed into him. At first both parties froze up, locked into each others gazes. Then Wonka cringed and pushed me away yelling,

"Ew! Cooties!"

"Cooties!" I asked offended and disbelieving. But before he received a tongue lashing, the elevator slammed into a halt and I fell crashing to the floor, Wonka sidestepping me completely.

"Oof!" I cried. The door opened with a pleasant ding and Wonka stepped over me saying as if I wasn't a sack of potatoes on the floor,

"Aw! Here we are!"

I limped out of the elevator, groaning,

"Ow..."

All fears of contamination were gone from Willy as he led the way into the long hallway. I chased after him, trying to yell at him,

"Mr. Wonka! That...that thing you call an elevator is not safe!"

"Poppycock! I'm fine aren't I?" he asked.

"But..."

"Tee hee! But! That's a funny word. Spelled incorrectly anyhow. Now come come! We don't have a moment to lose." he said not slowing his pace. I sighed, resigned to my fate, letting the conversation lapse into a moment of silence. Then I looked to my left and stopped in my tracks. The walls were covered in strips of wallpaper. But no two strips were alike.

"Interesting wallpaper." I commented to him. He stopped and turned to me with an excited look on his face,

"Oh! I almost forgot! This is my lickable wallpaper. Currently I have one hundred and sixteen flavors."

"Lickable...wallpaper?" I asked giving him a 'Lord are you nuts?' look.

"Mostly for babies and toddlers too young for candy. Try some! The strawberry tastes like strawberry! The blueberries taste like blueberries! The snozeberries taste like snozeberries!" Willy explained.

"There's no such thing as a snozeberry." I protested with a shake of my head.

"Oh you must never never doubt what no one is sure about." he said making me involuntarily laugh. Then a plot filled his purple eyes with a mischievous twinkle as he continued,

"Here...try this one." I turn to the strip he had pulled me to and stopped. It was covered in brown 'Wonka's all over. I asked him suspiciously,

"What flavor is this one?"

"Chocolate." he admitted.

"No." I said.

"Please?"

"No."

"Little taste?"

"No."

"One lick?"

"Nope."

"Just put the tip of your tongue to it."

"Not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Just not."

"Why?"

Before I let another hour of my life drag by, I stepped back to a strip covered in cherries. I asked him,

"How about the cherry? I like cherries."

He sighed, visually frustrated with how stubborn I was being and the new information he had learned that was bursting out of him. He consented,

"Fine...Don't care."

I shrugged and stepped before the wall. I began to lean in and lick the tip of my tongue to the picture, before pulling back and giggling.

"This is silly!" I said.

"Candy is suppose to be silly! That's why it's candy!" Wonka argued with a smile. And it was the nice smile too. The smile that made me go weak in the knees and shiver with pleasure. I couldn't resist that sweet, charming, boyish smile. I smiled and nodded,

"True..."

I leaned back in and took a good long lick up the wall. An explosion of cherries lingered in my mouth. It was sensational!

"Hmm..." I nodded at him in appreciation as he nodded with me. I took one, two, three more good long licks up and down the wall when I caught Mr. Wonka staring at me. It was a look I had seen but a few times in my lifetime. Desire. It burned in his eyes making me step back with a blush. He stepped back as well, clearing his throat and looking to the floor.

"Well...you get the idea..."he said softly.

"It's a wonderful idea Mr. Wonka. It will be a nice lead into the home decor industry." I said saying anything but what I was thinking.

"Yeah well...that's what my accountant says anyway. Shall we?" Willy asked gesturing down the hall. I went ahead, Wonka following behind me glancing at my rear once before blushing himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N: I'm back! Happy New Year! I recieved some critism that because this is first person, Freddy can't know what Willy is doing in another room or stuff like that. Hasn't anyone watched 'Sex and the City'? How would Carrie know all the stuff she narrated about? Same concept, same answer to the question. Now, on to the story!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

**_p.s. I know it's weird to read about Halloween right after Christmas, but that's how far behind I am! Oy..._**

* * *

Wonka led me into a room where the air was permeated with the sounds of howling wolves, bats, snarling and things that go bump in the night. I looked down noting there was a thick roll of fog on the floor. Willy bent down and scooped some fog up offering it to me,

"Want some? It's cotton candy."

"No thank you." I said amazed as he shrugged and helped himself. Overhead were thick chocolate tree with sparkling fruit roll up leaves in red, oranges, yellows and purples. Lacy spider webs made of spun sugar were woven through the branches and licorice spiders crept along them.

"This is Hallow's Eve Grove. This is where all of my Halloween specialty novelty candy is created." Wonka explained.

"It's beautiful!" I cried.

"Thank you. I hope the next grove is even more so." Wonka said before clapping a hand to his mouth. I looked at him raising an eyebrow,

"Next grove?"

Wonka darted his eyes from side to side a moment before grabbing my arm and pulling me along.

"Come on! Wouldn't want the licorice bats to start after us would we?"

"Bats?" I asked.

"Oh that's nothing. You should see my marzipan mummies!" he said with pride.

"Mummies?" I said with a little squeak. Then a lone howl pierced the air, and I clung to the closet thing to me. Which happened to be Willy's velvet coat. At first he winced, but then...he found he liked how I smelled. Like cookie dough. Which I don't know what that says about me, but I digress. Not only did he like the way I smelled, he found himself liking the way my form pressed up against his. He liked putting his hand around my waist, our hips touching, my eyes looking around frantically as I asked,

"Whatwasthat!?"

"Oh that's Herman...My chocolate werewolf." Willy said plain as day.

"Chocolate...werewolf?" I asked in a meek voice. He nodded and pried my hands from his lapel, placing them on the crook of his arm instead. Which I noticed was not normal nutty chocolatier behavior for him. He explained,

"Yeah see, you know how at Easter they have chocolate bunnies? We'll I thought for Halloween it would be cool to have chocolate werewolves that actually howled during a full moon. But I made the formula too strong, Herman escaped and has been hiding from me ever since. He's pretty good at hiding too, considering it's been six years now."

"So is he...dangerous?" I asked. I had every right to be cautious. After all, who wants a piece of chocolate to eat you? That would be ironic.

"Only to chocolate bunnies. That's all he eats. Besides he's only three feet tall." Willy said. Well now I felt stupid. What could a three foot tall werewolf do? Knaw my Minolos off?

"Oh..."I said not seeing Willy smile a little at the pout I made.

'Cute!' he thought to himself. He walked me into a fake graveyard made of white marble chocolate headstones and sprinkled with black sugar here and there. He lead me over to a small mausoleum and opened the door. He bowed and waved a hand inside,

"Ladies first."

I quirked an eyebrow and looked inside skeptically. Wasn't this how every dumb blond in a horror picture ended up chopped into a million pieces? Right after she twists her ankle running from the killer and strips off all her clothes? Being proud to be a brunette, I wasn't about to fall for the same trick a dumb blond had succumbed to.

"Why?"

"Cause I'm being polite...duh!" Willy said make a face. I put my hands on my hips,

"Not that! Why should I go in there?"

"Oh, why didn't you say so? Sheesh...all you had to do was ask." Willy said adjusting his cufflink, which I noticed was in the shape of the letter 'W'.

"Well?" I asked expecting an answer.

"Well what?" Willy asked.

"Why do you want me to go into the scary, creepy dark mausoleum first?" I demanded folding my arms and shutting my eyes in frustration.

"Oh! Well, it's because there's a prize in there for you." Willy said.

"A prize? Mr. Wonka as a professional I shouldn't take gifts or any form of gratuity." I said.

"Not when the best kind of prize is a sur-prize! Ha ha ha." he giggled softly. I nodded, looking at him like he was insane, which he was,

"Ah huh..." I gave up and muttered under my breath as I went inside the dark crypt, "Well bleach my hair and call me Jessica..."

I stepped inside, the heels of my shoes clicking on the hard candy structure, my breath visible in the cold room. Suddenly, Willy's shoes were heard and with an echo, the door creaked closed and shut with a boom. I truly was terrified now. Was Willy Wonka a dangerous serial killer? Driven mad by candy fumes and isolation? Then he clapped his hands and the room lit up to reveal racks of clothes along the small room. Seeing my confusion, Willy explained,

"These are my latest prototype. Cotton candy costumes. So that if you don't get enough candy at the end of trick or treating, you can eat your costume!"

"Oh." I said. Yes, I did feel like an idiot, thank you.

"The only kink we have to work out, is how to keep the costumes from melting when in contact from human sweat and higher temperatures than forty degrees...and how to keep that sweat from getting into the fabric and making the candy taste all gross and stuff." Willy explained pulling out a glittering superhero costume from the rack. The glitter was sugar crystals, and I saw the decorative piping was frosting.

"Wow...this is a really great idea Mr. Wonka. If kids don't get enough of a sugar high from the standard method, this should do the trick. But what about the mothers and fathers who like to keep their kids costumes year after year? I know my dad still has the mouse costume from when I was six." I asked examining a sleeve.

"Well...I...didn't think about those type of puh...puh...moms and dads." Willy said putting the costume back. Clueless to his stiff posture, I went on,

"Why not? Didn't your parents save your costumes?"

"No my dad wasn't really into Halloween." Willy said. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Did I actually just learn something personal about him? Follow up, follow up question!

"What about your mom?"

He twiddled his fingers and said softly,

"I don't remember."

"Why don't you..."

"I don't...remember." he said, his usual light merry voice taking on a serious, deeper quality. That was when I recognized his voice. He had been the one to greet me on the mike at the gate. And looking into his deep eyes now, I knew to drop it. For now.

"Okay...so...these costumes melt if they get wet or hot?"

Returning to his bright eyed, smiling state, he nodded and said,

"Yup! And we certainly want you to get wet and hot or you'll be naked..." Then his face dropped as he stuttered, "Uh...I mean...we don't want you to be naked...not...that you shouldn't be naked...cause you probably look great...not that you want to be naked...or hot...or wet...or...uh...um...eep..."

And with that, he rushed out of the room, red as a tomato leaving me to wonder. Had Willy Wonka just pictured me naked? Then I furrowed my brow and yelled after him,

"Hey! How do I get out of here!?"


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: Opps! Made a small factual error in my first chapter eight. But it's all better now._**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

* * *

"HOW could I say such a thing as that?! Stupid, stupid, stupid! I mean...why!? Why does one look at her eyes and her...curves...and my tummy gets all twisty inside? And now she probably thinks I'm a total jerk for saying that impossible deplorable thing! Dufus, Dufus, Dufus!" Willy Wonka berated himself, slapping his fore head with every repeated insult. He sighed and laid his head back on the leather settee, letting a moment of silence fill the air. Well, silence save for the scratching of his psychiatrist's pencil on his paper. How the two foot tall Oompah Loompah born practitioner found a Brooks Brother suit complete with a smart vest in his size I don't know. But he had been dealing with Willy's problems for years, and I suppose he charged by the hour. And that day, Willy had been having his head shrunk for three hours after our little 'incident' at Hallo's Eve Grove. The good doctor caught Willy's attention and made a few hand signals, finishing with the outlining of a curvy woman's figure. Willy understood his language and retorted,

"Pretty? Of course I think she's pretty! You'd have to be as blind as a Snozzwanger not to see that!" Willy sighed again and laid his head back down, his eyes fixed on the vaulted ceiling. He went on, "You know...I'm not sure...but I think her whole 'I don't like chocolate' thing has to do with her Mom. I saw her pictures while she was getting dressed. She used to be fat."

The doctor stopped writing and fixed him a look. Willy went on,

"No really, she was huge! I mean we're talking Gloop sized. And now she's so...little...but she's still all curvy and I can't help but think about...well..."

The doctor gave him an silent but encouraging 'go on' look.

"Holding her...To have all those lovely curves pressed up against me. But why do I feel this way? Usually the thought of getting close to anyone grosses me out. But not with her." Willy tapered off in wonder. He looked to the doctor and found a knowing, impish grin on his middle aged face. After a series of hand gestures and silent signals, Willy translated his observations into English,

"Because Miss James is a woman, and I'm a man...sort of...HEY! It's natural to feel physical attraction. The attraction is also because I want to change her attitude about chocolate and that presents me with a challenge. And while you don't suggest I go and try to trick her into liking chocolate, you do think I should follow through on my feelings of physical attraction and pursue a friendship and a courtship with her since I've been isolated from females all my life and this could help me become a more well rounded person." Willy nodded a minute or two, seemingly taking it all in, when he looked blankly at the doctor,

"What does that all mean?"

The doctor rolled his eyes and wrote on his notebook. He ripped out the page and Willy took the small paper in his hands. It was a prescription that simply read,

"Ask her to dinner and call me in the morning."

"Dinner?...You mean...ask her out on...what'd Charlie call it? A date?" Willy asked. The doctor smiled and nodded and Willy blanched,

"A date? With her? Alone? And touching?" Then he shrugged and said, "I could live with that."

The doctor whipped off his glasses and raised an eyebrow.

But Willy avoided me for nearly a week. This I understood. So I spent my time getting to know the Buckets. Kara was Little Susie Homemaker all over, and I couldn't have been more different by being a modern, independent career woman. While it was like Jane Goodall watching the chimps for either one of us, we did make each other laugh. Sam I saw less of because of his job, but he always came home with a story, a joke or a political opinion. He reminded me of my dad.

Look up crotchety in the dictionary and there will be a picture of Grandpa George. One mention of war, politicians, or Brittany Spears and the man would go into an all out tirade, rant and cuss fess. Even though I'm sure Charlie's heard worst at his private school, Kara still covers his ears to protect his innocence. But one of Grandpa George's redeeming qualities was his computer skills. Like a growing number of senior citizens out there, Grandpa George picked up on using the computer and the internet. For hours we'd spend time going through chat rooms, online newspapers, web-casts, or just playing online games against each other. He's even got a spot on Facebook.

Grandpa Joe would come home in the early afternoons. He too had a new story every day. Some varied from people at the museum, the butcher across the street, or my personal favorite, a story about Willy Wonka. So far I got sixty one stories about the day he created unmeltable ice crème, a spider in the old candy shop and Willy's less than heroic reaction (he screamed like a girl and fainted) and a office Christmas party where Willy handed out boxes of cold hard cash in a Santa Claus suit. That was the last Christmas before he closed the factory. I still had no story about the man himself except for that brief comment about his father and Halloween.

Some quiet afternoons I spent in the company of Grandma Josephine who loved to tell me stories from when she was a mere sprig of a girl as I held the yarn for her knitting. Grandma Georgina always listened politely, with that far off, child like smile on her face. She would every so often chime in a word that seemed like utter nonsense, until the fateful day when I made a small discovery with huge results.

"Apples!" Grandma Georgina said as I held a lapful of Grandma Josephine's yarn for her latest knitting project. At first I didn't respond, use to such things by now, but when I felt a tap on my forearm, I looked up into Georgina's sweet withered face as she repeated,

"Apples!"

I furrowed my brow in confusion, until I caught a glimpse of a bowl of fruit on the table. A bowl of fruit filled with green apples. Almost the same color as my eyes.

"Me? Am I Apples?" I asked her.

"What was that dear?" Josephine asked listening to our conversation. I didn't answer her, instead asking Grandma Georgina,

"Grandma Georgina...who's Mr. Wonka?"

"Peanuts!" she smiled. I remembered my time with Willy, realizing that yes, he did smell like peanuts.

"What did you want to ask me Grandma Georgina?" I asked her catching on to her meanings as Josephine looked on concerned. Kara stopped her puttering in the kitchen and listened in confusion as well.

"Tangles." she simply responded.

"Tangles?" I asked furrowing my brow.

"Freddie...it's alright...we don't need to understand her. We just need to love her." Kara told me with a hint of sadness.

"No...I think she's asking me for something...She's asking...Tangles...What could that mean?" I asked thinking and looking around the room. Finally my eyes rested on a gently used hairbrush of soft bristles, strands of white hair tangled about. I stood, placing the yarn on the bed and went over to collect the brush on the table. I held it up and pointed to it asking,

"Tangles?"

"Tangles!" Grandma Georgina exclaimed with a smile. Kara and Grandma Georgina gasped loudly, causing Grandpa George to awaken from his slumber.

"What? What the devil is going on?" he murmured.

"Grandma Georgina...she can talk but in her own special way." I said in wonder.

"Young lady...don't play around with an old man's heart." he told me with a warning tone with just a hint of sadness.

"No George she's right! Whenever Georgina talks, she speaks a word that reminds her of what she's talking about. Apples mean Freddie since she has apple green eyes, Peanuts means Mr. Wonka since he smells like peanuts, and Tangles mean her hairbrush!" Kara cried.

"I bet she's asking Freddie to brush her hair!" Josephine cried.

"Right!" Grandma Georgina nodded. Grandpa George looked at his bride and still saw the same sweet round faced beauty he had fallen in love with before he went off to fight WWI. He had spoken to her in recent years...but never with her. He just couldn't understand her. Tears glistening his eyes, he asked Georgina in a small voice,

"Georgie Girl...who am I?"

Grandma Georgina smiled and reached out to hold his hand stroking the wedding band on his finger.

"Gold." she said in a warm loving tone. Kara covered her mouth with her hands to hold back a sob as George's lower lip tremble.

"Gold...our wedding rings are gold. I'm Gold."

"Oh Georgina!" Kara cried rushing forward to hug her mother in law.

"Pink." Grandma Georgina said her own tears starting to flow.

"Pink...I used to wear pink all the time as a girl." Kara laughed with a sob.

"All these years...we thought her mind was gone...but it was here all the while. Georgina we're so sorry..." Josephine said in disbelief. Georgina patted her leg and said warmly,

"Mittens..."

"Guess that's you Josephine." I said smiling at this warm family moment. This must be how Dr. Phil felt whenever he helped piece a family back together again. Yet as I looked at George kissing his wife on the lips, his strong facade crumbling with tears of joy, I also felt envy. I wished for that kind of love they had after so many years. And to my wonder...an image of Willy Wonka came to my mind.

It wasn't very long before Grandpa Joe came home, then Charlie from school and then Sam from work. They all rejoiced with wonder, happiness and disbelief that we had finally cracked the code of Georgina's special language. And in case you were wondering, Georgina calls Joe Four, as in Four Eyes; Charlie was Paint as in the finger-paints he used to draw for her when he was young, and Sam was Mint since he always smelled like mint when he came home from the toothpaste factory. Soon a knock came to the door and Willy's head poked in looking around the room expectantly,

"A little birdie told me we figured out how to talk to Grandma Georgina. May I come in?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course Willy! You're family and we're having a family celebration." Sam said.

"But Miss James isn't family." Willy said pointing a finger at me.

"True but if it wasn't for her we wouldn't be celebrating now would we?" George asked him.

"I guess." Willy shrugged taking off his top hat. I furrowed my brow as I noticed him casting nervous glances my way. I guess after last weeks little incident he was reluctant to look at me. I admit I was a little embarrassed myself. I mean I don't have much record of men admitting they've pictured me naked. But then I don't have much of a record with men period.

"Willy, will you help Freddie set the table? I'm making an extra special dinner tonight. Georgina's favorites. Cherrie pie for desert!" Kara said beaming from the kitchen.

"Uh...yeah...cherries..." Willy said casting a glance at me then blushing. I sighed resolving to act like an adult and set the table. But my mind began to wander back to last week and the look in Willy's eyes when I had licked the wallpaper. I found myself accessing Willy Wonka's looks again. He was very slim, thanks to that stupid and fast metabolism of his, but he had nice shoulders. I watched him take off his coat and noticed that his vest was expertly tailored to show off his narrow waist. I shook myself before I went any lower. I couldn't be thinking of such things! I shouldn't! Willy Wonka was a man...sort of...and I had sworn off men for the sake of my waistline. But then...if he had wondered what I looked like naked...gah! Enough!

"Miss James? Yoo-hoo! Houston to Apollo Eleven!" said a familiar voice waving his purple latex glove in front of my face. I blinked and said,

"Huh?"

He had a quiet look of amusement in his eyes as he asked me knowingly,

"Flashback?"

"Huh?"

"You do know you've set the same place setting for five minutes now?"

I blushed and moved on to the next setting,

"Oh?"

Was that nonchalant enough?

"Yeah, and don't act like you knew what you were doing cause that's just crazy right there." Willy said.

Apparently it anything but nonchalant.

"Do you want to...I don't know...step out? For a breather? Before dinner?" Willy asked me in a whisper. So long as I looked down at the table, my mind could say 'No', my body could say 'no' and most importantly...my big mouth could say 'no'. But I made the mistake of looking up into those gorgeous pleading eyes of his. My heart made my mouth say,

"Sure."

We finished up the table and stepped outside into the chocolate room. I folded my arms as I inhaled. Oy...even the room smelled like chocolate. Course it would thanks to the huge chocolate river in the middle of the room. I looked to Willy and saw he had left his hat and coat inside, his hands tucked in his pockets, the stimulated breeze blowing his hair out of his face. He looked so different. He looked approachable, friendly, warm...and handsome. I ran a hand through my hair and furrowed my brow as I noticed bright, floating balls of light flicker on and off around the fields.

"Glow in the dark Gummi-Lightning Bugs." Willy told me.

"They're beautiful." I said amazed.

"It was Charlie's idea actually. His first successful creation." Willy told me.

"Looks like you're teaching him well." I said.

"Well one of these days he'll have more ideas than I will. Then I'll move on." he said.

"And do what?" I asked.

"I don't know. Travel the world again I guess. I hear a lot of it's changed in the last fifteen years." he said.

"Don't you have the Internet?" I asked.

"Yeah...but I get too caught up reading fan fiction." he admitted with a blush.

"What about starting your own family? Have you ever considered that?" I asked, the question leaving my mouth on it's own accord. He paused before saying,

"Recently."

"How recently?" I asked.

"The last two weeks." he said. Trying not to convince myself that answer had something to do with my arrival here, I asked,

"So where were you born?"

"A hospital." he answered plainly.

"No...I mean what state? What city?" I asked.

"Where?" he asked.

"In America." I said.

"Isn't it enough to say I was born in America?" he asked.

"No people want to know when and where." I told him.

"When and where what?" he asked.

"When and where you were born!" I huffed.

"In America a long time ago." he said.

"But what about the date?!" I cried in exasperation.

"How about tomorrow night?" he asked.

"What about tomorrow night?" I asked.

"The date." he said.

"What date?" I asked.

"The date you and I are going to have together." he said plain as day. I gaped at him, my mouth wide open, leaving one of the lightning bugs to fly into my mouth. I closed my mouth, noticing the candy creature was a lemon lime flavor. I gulp down the bug, absentmindedly wondering if my stomach would glow in the dark tonight. I looked at Willy's expectant face. Had he really asked me out on a date? No...I wasn't that lucky. There was no way on Earth a handsome billionaire would want to go out with me. But there he was. With that look I had seen in the mirror all though high school when a boy said they would call...and they never did. Hope and fear all mixed together as one. My heart couldn't say no.

My mind however, needed a bit more convincing. Resolved to keep to my men and chocolate free diet, I decided to make it strictly business. In a flash a plan came to mind.

"Alright...on one condition." I told him.

"Yeah?" he asked suspicious and fearful.

"I'll go out with you...if you stop avoiding my questions." I told him.

"Come again?" he asked.

"You tell me exactly what I want to know and I'll go out with you. No random facts, no riddles, no jokes...no Abbott and Costello routines...just you. Your story from start to finish. The second you clam up...I call a cab and call it a night. Do we have a deal?" I asked expectantly. Willy said nothing as Kara came out on the front step and said cheerfully,

"Dinner's ready! Come and get it."

"We'll be in a minute." I said still waiting for Willy's answer.


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N: Not quiet yet ready for the romance. But then...neither are our characters. They have to get ready to know each other first. Enjoy!_**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox

* * *

_**

I had a date with Willy Wonka.

No, it wasn't a date...at least...not to me. It was just trying to get a straight answer out of Willy about his mysterious past. But what if it wasn't just dinner for Willy? And why had I spent the better part of my morning scrounging around my dressing area trying to decide on an outfit for tonight?

I'm such a girl.

Just then, a knock came on the door and I called out with a sigh,

"Come in!"

"Freddy? It's Kara? Where are you?" she asked stepping into the room.

"Take a left at the Vera Wang." I told her. She stepped into the walk-in, looking on in amusement.

"Lord...I've never seen so many nice clothes." she said.

"Well one of the perks of working for a magazine that covers high fashion for the young working woman is getting a little of that high fashion for yourself. Besides after dropping the weight I treated myself to designer." I told her.

"Dropping the weight? You've lost weight?" she asked.

"Yeah...a pound or two...or...eighty..." I admitted.

"Eighty pounds? Oh! You mean you've lost about...Five stones!" Kara said.

"Okay I know we're both technically speaking English, but we're talking two different languages." I said with a laugh. She shared my laughter,

"Sorry...a stone is about fourteen, fifteen pounds of weight as you Americans call it."

"Learn something knew everyday." I said returning to my rummaging.

"Well you look wonderful...Oh! Is this you?" Kara asked seeing my family pictures. She picked up one in her hands and I pointed out my loved ones.

"Yeah...that's my Dad...that's my brother Jack...and that big one without the saddle is...or rather...was me."

"My word! You really do look amazing!" Kara declared.

"Thanks...Still have about a "stone" to go though..." I said.

"No...no I think you look about right...Is that the reason why you won't take any desert?" Kara asked. I hesitated...but I couldn't tell another lie. I just couldn't.

"Yeah...It's nothing against you...I just can't have any sweet right now or I'll have to borrow a tent around here to wear." I confided in her.

"Oh come on now! That's silly. Look at me! I live in a chocolate factory and I'm thin as a rake aren't I?" Kara said.

"Yeah but you're probably one of those annoying people who can eat anything and not gain weight." I said folding my arms and thinking of a certain annoying candyman.

"Heaven's no. When I was pregnant with Charlie...before we fell on the rough times...I gained sixty pounds. Took forever to knock off the weight. And when we were poor, I would always balloon up a little whenever we got something extra to eat. I don't know I guess I just learned portion control." Kara shrugged. I nodded contemplating her story, before finally saying,

"So you're just one of those annoying people who lose weight and keep it off huh?"

She giggled,

"Relax...I have a feeling you'll be one of those people. You just have to find something you enjoy more than eating. That's what I did."

"Thanks Kara." I said truthfully. It was such a relief that someone knew what I was going through. And Kara Bucket amazed me. She actually had done for five years what I was trying to do in three months. Keep her figure in a chocolate factory. She nodded and said looking around the room,

"So...what are you up to in here anyway? You missed breakfast."

"Sorry...just...I'm trying to figure out what to wear for this business dinner I have with Mr. Wonka." I said. She got a gleam in her eye.

"Dinner...with Willy?" she asked.

"Yeah...just business." I said.

"Then...why are you worried about what to wear?" Kara asked.

"Because Willy is taking me to some Italian place in town and my Triple A tour guide book says it's five star." I told her.

"Since when do you call him Willy?" she asked with a grin. I gaped my mouth open a bit. Did I just call him Willy? Oy vey...

"Don't worry. Whatever you'll pick out will be fine." Kara assured me turning to leave.

"Why's that?" I asked. She paused and grinned at me saying,

"Because I'm rather convinced Willy doesn't want you to lose another stone either."

To my indignation...she just left the room with at self satisfied look on her face. I sputtered my lips, still trying to decide what to wear.

Meanwhile, I wasn't the only one standing in my closet trying to decide what to wear for that night. Nor was I the only one to be visited by a Bucket either.

"It was so perfect Charlie! She mentioned the word date and I hooked her right in! And I never felt so confident! Sure there's that whole tell her about my past thing...but if I'm lucky she'll forget about it!" Willy told his young friend who was hopelessly holding an armful of loud, colorful clothing Willy had inspected then thrown into his arms.

"I don't know Willy...I mean...That is the reason she came. To talk to you about your past for the magazine and my coming of age." Charlie said. Willy stopped and looked at Charlie with panicking eyes,

"You mean...she really doesn't want to go out on a date with me?"

"Sorry Mate. She's probably calling it a business dinner." Charlie shrugged.

"But...I don't want it to be a boring old dinner...I want...I don't know...more." Willy said quietly.

"Well then...you better do something to make an impression." Charlie said.

Willy then puffed up with pride saying,

"So I shall. Now Charlie my dear boy. I'm counting on you. How does one conduct themselves on a date? Or as the case would be...a date where one's date isn't calling it a date."

"Um...I don't know." Charlie admitted.

"What!? What do you mean! You know everything!" Willy exclaimed.

"I'm not even sixteen years old Willy! And...truth be told...the girls at school...I just can't talk to them." Charlie said.

"Why not?" asked Willy.

"Well...girls are a mystery my Dad says. Their scent drives a man batty, the way they look up at you feels like your on top of the world, and..." Charlie said.

"And their eyes are so pretty you feel like they're staring straight into your soul and you can't help but let them." Willy added his voice trailing in wonder.

"You said it." Charlie said releasing a breath. Willy looked up at Charlie and said,

"Guess we've both got to learn about women huh?"

"Hey you're the mentor. You have to go first." Charlie said.

"Something to make an impression huh? Well...better start with a proper outfit huh?" Willy said riffling through his racks again.

Later, I had finally settled on the tried and true Little Black Dress. Dressy, but also appropriate for business. I was putting on a strand of pearls only to pause at my reflection in the vanity mirror. I cast my eyes to the framed photo I had of my mother, wearing the exact same pearls that graced my neck. A year ago they couldn't even fit because of my double chin. Now they hung loose. I almost got all teary eyed wishing my mother could be here. I was snapped out of my musings by the sound of a conga beat on my door. I got up, grabbed my coat and purse, and made for the door.

I almost didn't recognize him. He wore a gray duster coat over a red silk vest and a black shirt and cravat. Neat gray slacks, but still the same top hat, gloves, cane and shoes. I suppose this was what he wore outside his factory walls. So not to get recognized. As if everyone in the world wore top hats and carried canes like Mr. Peanut. He gave a nervous smile and offered his arm,

"Miss James."

I took his arm,

"Mr. Wonka..."

And that was how my date with Willy Wonka began.


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/N: Here you go! I seem to be doing better if I focus on one story at a time and force myself to write. So here's the big first date...part one._**

**_peace, love and lipgloss, _**

**_Mlle.Fox_**

* * *

My date with Willy Wonka almost ended as soon as it started. That was mainly because he was about to lead me back to the Wonkavator.

"Heck no." I said stopping in my tracks.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm not getting in that spinning death trap from Hell!" I said folding my arms. Willy gestured to the Wonkavator,

"Oh please! You just have to get used to it." Willy said.

"Uh...no! I don't want to get used to it." I said.

"Get in." he ordered.

"No." I said.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Scoot your butt in there."

"Do you want it in another language? Non!"

"Now."

"No! Besides...I'm wearing a dress. And I would not like half of Sweet Haven to see my business thank you very much." I said.

"You mean the magazine? Why wouldn't you want them to see that? Isn't that the point of the magazine?" Willy asked.

"Not..." I sighed closing my eyes. This was going to be a very long night. I opened them and added, "Let's just say Victoria's got her Secrets, and I've got mine." I said. He raised a perplexed eyebrow.

"Victoria? Who's Victoria?"

I slapped a hand over my eyes. This was going to be a very long night indeed.

* * *

Finally, I had convinced Willy to take a car to the restaurant. At least I think it was a car we rode in. It looked more like a metal cloud of smoke. Almost like an old Bentley, but it was light purple and highly stylized. And no, Willy didn't drive. Something about how he passed the test, but he hated the way his picture turned out. I was tempted to say 'It could have been because of that fake plastic grin you're so proud of.', but I did the polite thing and stayed quiet.

Turned out Murray was the one to drive us. He was all decked out in a chauffeurs uniform, complete with the Hitler boots. Looking into the front seat, I saw it had been customized so the pedals could be switched out to use shifts, like what a person in a wheelchair would drive. The only difference being there were about five phone books stacked up so Murray could look over the dash.

The twin backseats was pretty plush. Two seats in a soft pink leather. Willy sat with his back facing Murray...so in turn he was facing me. I looked out the window, laughing to myself as I saw people double take once we reached a stoplight. If they were reacting to the car or to the driver I'm not sure, but Murray did give a sort of 'Whasup?' nod to a delivery driver.

Meanwhile, Willy was trying to look elsewhere, but his eyes kept darting back to my legs. I had crossed them, and leaning back in the seat a bit gave Willy a good view of my thigh. Now Willy always had a song playing in his head. Call it his own personal I-Pod. But when I had crossed my legs it had changed from 'It's a Small World After All' to 'Fever'. He bit his lip and tightened the grip on his cane as he realized he was getting that 'South' feeling again.

Suddenly, Murray had swerved violently to park in front of the restaurant. The sudden stop made Willy stumble forward. He caught himself before falling, but did so by putting a hand on my knee. We just sort of froze looking at each other. Then he retracted his hand as if he burned himself and blushed looking down,

"Sorry."

I smiled softly, deciding to let him off the hook.

"It's okay. Accidents happen." I said. I became concerned when Willy's eyes glazed over with that familiar, 'I'm having a stroke' look to him. But this time I figured he was having one of his 'flashbacks.'

* * *

_"I'm sorry Mama..." Young Willy had said with big puppy dog eyes and a pouting lips. The redhead fixed her son a raised brow and an agitated stare before sighing and saying, _

_"It's alright Starshine. Accidents happen." _

_"Will you tell Papa I spilled the milk all over the kitchen floor before he could get some for his coffee?" Willy asked with trepidation._

_"Papa already knows." said a gruff voice from the doorway. Willy gasped and snapped his head around to look at his towering figure of a father. Thick black eyebrows and a stern brown stare were fixed firmly on his young son. The man's hair was gray, his dentist scrubs a pristine white. His hands were behind his back as Willy stood to his feet and admitted while looking at the top of his shoes, _

_"I spilled the milk." _

_"I can see that. However...there is an old saying. No use crying over spilled milk. I mean, if Mama isn't angry why should I be?" Dr. Wonka said._

_"See? I told you Papa wouldn't be that upset." Mrs. Wonka said squeezing her son's shoulders. Dr. Wonka sat at the kitchen table unfolding his newspaper, _

_"Now run along to school Willy. Perhaps if you get home on time today instead of dawdling by the candy shop, I'll let you watch me repair an abscess at four." _

_"Groovy!" Willy exclaimed grabbing his Underdog lunch pail from his mother and rushing out the door. Mrs. Wonka laughed to her husband, _

_"He's going to be spoiled at this rate." _

_"Well like I said...if you don't punish him...I can't either. I suppose it's the price one pays marrying a wife fifteen years his junior and having a young son as he should be thinking of retirement. And like you said...Accidents happen." Dr. Wonka said welcoming his wife into his lap. Young Willy stood in the shadows of the door watching his parents giggle and caress each other, amazed at their love for each other.

* * *

_

Willy was silent a moment or two before echoing the words his mother had spoken to Dr. Wonka years ago,

"Sometimes...the best things that happen in life are accidents."

I caught my breath as he looked deeply into my eyes. Then the door opened and the valet gestured for us.

"Good evening Sir."

Willy looked at me once more, before covering up those gorgeous eyes of his with those dorky white sunglasses. He stepped out of the car and then paused. A purple latex hand reached down to me, offering to help me out. I took said hand and pulled myself out, looking out at the converted townhouse.

Stain glass just touched the front windows like curtains of grape vines. Inside the walls were rich polished wood. The tables and chairs were antique and eclectic like they belonged in a family kitchen, but no two were alike. Glided chandeliers and a grand staircase led up to a second floor dining area. The most out of place thing would have to be the gold and red trolley car used as a private dining room. This is where the overly excited matre'D led us.

"We are so excited Signori Wonka! I mean...it's so rare you come out in public and to do so now with such a que bella lady friend on your arm...it's simply..."

"Yeah...Okay...Not to be rude or anything...but the reason I bought out the whole restaurant tonight was so I wouldn't be bothered. 'Kay?" Willy said plastering on that fake grin of his. The Italian muttered his apologies and said,

"Of course...Excusi Signori Wonka...I send you your waiter."

I watched the disappointed man walk away before whispering to Willy,

"That was very rude."

"What? I'm just not...into all that gushing over me and stuff and announcing my presence everywhere. I'm not Regis Philbin." Willy said picking up his menu.

"Well you know what Willy? This whole reclusive millionaire act you've got going only makes people want to gush over you more. If they knew a little more about you then maybe they wouldn't be such a mystery and then people wouldn't be as interested. Of course...that's why we're here. To break that cycle and give the world what they want. A glimpse of the Candy Man." I told him picking up my menu with a huff. He was silent a minute or two before saying,

"You just called me Willy and not Mr. Wonka."

Dang it. I had hoped he would not notice that.

"So?" I asked. A waiter in a white shirt and black bowtie came to the table,

"Are you ready to order Sir? Perhaps you would like to start with the wine list?"

"Yes please and uh...tell your boss I'm sorry for being rude earlier...I'm just nervous out in public." Willy told him.

"Right away Sir." the young man bowed before running through his wine selection. Willy and I just sat there smiling at each other.

* * *

I dreaded what came after the salad. Salads are a chef's way of luring a person into thinking that they're being good, they're not cheating on their diets and they have amazing willpower. But once those two big plates of spaghetti and meatballs were set before us, I gulped just waiting for my thighs to merge into one big mound of fatty flesh. Whoever thought of carbohydrates drenched in thick high calorie sauces should be drug out into the street and shot. As I sat watching Willy tear into his pasta, I took an extra bread plate (another dieter's trap) and began to work on making myself a smaller portion for myself. I started my interview casually, hoping he wouldn't notice my eating habits,

"So Mr. Wonka...What's your full name? You know first name, middle name?"

"Actually it's Wilbur Winston Wonka the Third." Willy said figuring (begrudgingly) he's better cooperate if he were to get anywhere and explore these funny feelings he had around me.

"Wilbur? I always thought Willy was short for William." I said.

"Well my Dad wanted a legacy or something." Willy told me watching me divide my meatballs as he twirled his spaghetti on a fork.

"And what does your Dad do for a living that he would want a legacy?" I asked digging out my tape recorder and turning it on.

"He's a ...mmphis..." Willy mumbled covering his mouth with his hand as he spoke.

"I'm sorry?" I asked leaning in.

"He's a dentist." Willy admitted with a sigh. I just sat there staring blankly at the man. The World's Greatest Candy Maker and contributor to tooth decay was the son of a dentist?

"That makes...so much sense." I said shaking my head with wonder.

"Now do you see why I don't like to talk about my family much?" Willy asked rubbing his neck.

"Heck no! We're just scratching the surface! Go on! What else about your dad?" I asked biting into my smaller helping of pasta.

"Well...he lived in Boston...Bean Town you know." He raised his fork up for emphasis and to take a bite, only he did a double take when he realized he had twirled the pasta on his fork to the size of a baseball. As he set it down and scooted the pasta ball off his fork with his knife, Willy continued, "He met my mother...who worked at a drug store...got married and had me."

"Now Grandpa Joe said you started opened your first candy shop when you were just fifteen. What happened that made you leave America, not finish school and leave your family to pursue your dream?" I asked.

"Aren't you going to finish your plate?" Willy asked suddenly. I looked down at my small plate and noticed I had finished and told Willy as much. Then he pointed to the larger plate with the now cold spaghetti.

"Oh..." I said. Then I frowned at him and said, "Hey...what did I say? Don't distract me!"

"I'm just curious to know why you're not eating all your food." he asked.

"There's no law that says one has to clean their plate. Besides, I'm not that hungry and don't distract me!" I told him again pointing a finger at him.

"Are you feeling well? Because if you're sick maybe that would explain why you're not eating and..."

"TAXI!" I called out suddenly, leaning back in my chair, crossing my legs and pointing a finger in the arm.

"Okay! Okay you win! What was the question?" Willy asked placating me.

"Why did you leave home?" I asked.

"Well...my Dad forbade sweets of any kind when I was a kid." Willy finally admitted. I paused, stunned,

"No sweets? Ever?" I asked. Willy shook his head,

"I didn't have my first piece of candy till I was twelve. And that was because I snuck a piece of chocolate."

"Wow." was all I could say. No sweets? And here I was counting calories because my parents let me have too much sweets as a kid.

"Yeah Dad said gooey stuff like sweets would mess up my braces." Willy said finding it easier to confide in me the more he spoke.

"Braces?" I asked skeptically. He winced and set his fork down. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thin wallet. Willy handed the wallet to me without a word. I took the fine leather in both hands and my eyes went wide with surprise. Next to a Pokemon trading card was a fading colored school photo and a twelve year old boy tried to smile at the camera. But a huge piece of...I don't know what to call this contraption that was on his head. It surrounded his head like a birdcage, and it made his smile into an uncomfortable grimace. The only way you could tell he was happy was the sparkle in his amethyst eyes. The same amethyst eyes that was trying to hide his embarrassment now.

"Yikes..."

"Yup...My dad's own design. The Toothinator 5000. Well at least that's what he named it so I'd think it was cool and wouldn't mind kids calling me names." Willy said.

"What kind of names did kids call you?" I asked looking up at him.

"Oh you know...All the old standbys. Tinsel Teeth...Tin Grin...Metal Mouth...Brace Face...Antenna Head...Birdbrain in a Birdcage...Molar Bear...Wonkastein...Although, I kinda liked that one. It made me sound tough." Willy reflected in though as he picked up his fork and began to eat again.

"Yeah...kids can be cruel..." I said looking again at the sweet little boy in the picture, understanding now how he grew up into the man sitting beside me. Everything about Willy Wonka made a little more sense now. His dentist father not only forbad candy but forced him to wear huge and surely uncomfortable braces that made him subject to ridicule and a walking target. So he drops out of school and gets the ultimate revenge on his father and on all those who persecuted him by becoming the world's greatest and richest chocolatier. But because he missed out on a great childhood, he makes up for it by surrounding himself with fancy and wonderful whimsy. I knew all too well the need to show the world up and for accomplished revenge. I too had many nicknames and harsh monikers growing up 'the fat kid'. It all made perfect sense now. At least...it explained the teeth.

Willy looked at me while I was pondering all this, and he felt strange. Something told him I understood. He remembered the pictures in my room and figured that's why I was no longer eating. He understood I didn't want to be the kid everyone made fun of in school ever again. He knew this because he didn't want to be Brace Face again. But how was he to let me know he understood? Also, he was still trying to figure out how to make that impression on me so I would know he was interested in...more. He looked at his plate...then at mine. Then he scooted a meatball over his plate with his fork, stabbing it, bringing it to my empty dish, and scooted it closer still to me. I looked down at his unusual display with a question in my eyes. He shrugged and blushed slightly,

"I saw that in a movie once."

My breath caught remembering what movie he was talking about. A grin tugged up my lips as I thought it was the sweetest thing a man had ever said to me. I ran a hand though my hair as a blush crept up my neck as I thought,

'_Oy...there's that flip flop feeling again.'_

Willy interrupted my thoughts again by saying,

"You should smile more often. It makes everything pretty."

"Thank you...Willy." I said while thinking,

'_I'm so going to need that bypass...'_


End file.
